


The Duck Knight (a story I wrote in 5th grade)

by elvenbookworm



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 12:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30122505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvenbookworm/pseuds/elvenbookworm
Summary: After Tumblr user Glumshoe dug up a high fantasy epic they wrote in 3rd grade, I was reminded of this... abomination I penned in 5th. I was juuust self-aware enough to realize how cliched my writing was, but not quite practiced enough to actually avoid cliches, so instead I clumsily lampshaded them. I remember being rather proud of the result. Brace yourself for execrable puns and general cringe. Presented completely unedited.
Kudos: 3





	The Duck Knight (a story I wrote in 5th grade)

Horatio was a duck. He lived in a millpond fed by a sparkling spring in the middle of the picturesque British countryside. All the animals that lived on the farm that the millpond was next to were his friends. But, somehow, though his life was filled with sunshine and plentiful food and companionship, he was not content.  
One day, he saw a sturdy-looking chestnut-colored horse charging down the dirt road in front of the farm. On his back was seated a silvery person, carrying his blindingly bright hat at his side. It was a dark and swarthy knight, but Horatio, being a simple country duck, did not know this. The knight swept a weary eye across the green fields and the sparklingly clear stream. He reined in his horse and stopped to take a drink from the bubbling brook. The horse took several deep gulps of the refreshing water, and then trotted up the bank towards the tender grass. He stationed himself under a spreading willow tree whose draping, overhanging branches beckoned him as they waved in the soft breeze.  
Horatio waddled up to him. “Excuse me, sir, but who are you, and where do you go in such haste?”  
“Oh, hello there,” the horse said amiably. “My name is Malcolm, and that human is my master, Sir Melvin the Courageous! We go to slay the evil ruler of South Bickersbi.”  
“What’s a ‘courageous’?”  
“Courageous means brave. You see, he’s a courageous, or brave, knight.”  
“But what’s a knight?”  
Malcolm smiled at the curious and rather confused little duck. “A knight is one who has devoted his life to adventuring, helping those in need, and ridding the world of evil. What did you say your name was again?”  
“Horatio, sir,” replied Horatio, “and-”   
But before he could ask any more questions, a shrill whistle pierced the air.  
“My master calls! I must go! Farewell, Horatio!”  
“Goodbye, sir. Good luck!” he called, waving until horse and rider were a mere speck in the distance.  
After he was quite sure they were out of sight, he waddled back to the pond and dangled his feet in the water. He could not stop thinking about the man in shining clothes. What was that Malcolm said? One who has devoted his life to adventuring, helping those in need, and ridding the world of evil. “Of course!” he shouted aloud. “That’s what I will do. I, from this day forward, will be a knight!”  
Easier said than done! Horatio got up extra-early the next day and started training. He decided he would need some armor. He looked all over the farm, but all he could find was an old ladle with the handle broken off.   
“Ah well, better something than nothing!” he mused.  
He put the ladle on top of his head. A perfect fit. He then found part of an old scythe blade with a handle at one end. He went into the barn and used the knife sharpener to put a fine, sharp edge on the slightly-rusty metal. A discarded sock and a piece of twine mad a serviceable sheath, though not a fancy one, and his equipment was all ready.  
“Now,” he thought to himself, “I should practice swordsmanship.” He tried to pull his “sword” out of the sock. Of course, he had not previously realized that ducks’ wings aren’t made for gripping. He took his sword out with his beak and looped a strap of leather around the handle. With this in place, he could just slip his wingtip in and pull it out, eliminating the need for opposable digits. Fully armed, he went down to the pond and woke up his friend, Theodore the frog.  
“Whuzzat? Who art thou?” Theodore inquired, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and flexing his webbed toes.  
“Wake up! Rise and shine, sleepyhead! It’s a bright day, and I need to practice my sword skills!” Horatio said, prodding him with his beak.   
“Oh, it is you! But why do you want to do such a weird thing?” Theodore stretched and hopped out of his mossy bed beneath the pond’s bank.  
Horatio then told him all about the horse’s visit the day before. Excitement shone in Theodore's bulging eyes as Horatio outlined his plans for becoming knights.  
“Hey! That’s a really great idea! And I have the perfect weapon!” He reached under his mossy mattress and pulled out a small bow and a quiver full of tiny, blue-   
flighted arrows.   
“Wow! Where did you get those?” Horatio asked, looking impressed.  
“Oh, I made them myself, and it makes catching dragonflies a lot easier!” Theodore grinned, quite obviously proud of his craftsmanship.  
“Well, grab a stick for a sword, and we’ll get started!” said Horatio.  
“OK!”  
So Theodore found himself a good, stout stick and they started whacking away. Horatio proved himself to be a natural hand at sword fighting, but Theodore had a bit of trouble.  
“Thrust!” Horatio would call out. When Theodore lunged forward, Horatio whacked his stick out of the frog’s hands, and leveled the sword point inches from his throat. Then Theodore would attempt to repeat the maneuver and would drop his stick, or miss Horatio’s sword, or clonk himself in the nose.  
“I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of this!” he sighed. “I’m just a clumsy old frog, and you’re-”  
“A waddling old duck!” Horatio cut him off. “I just started today too, remember. I know nothing of technique, and I’m anything but agile. Hey, how about you teach me to use that bow of yours. I bet you’re really good with it!”  
Theodore brightened. “Sure! I’d love to! Come down by the brook.”  
Horatio followed. Theodore positioned himself in a patch of tall grass. “Now, look over there!” he whispered. “All those grasshoppers make fine targets. Watch closely. First, pick out a target. Wait till it comes down after a jump. Then pull back the string, sight down the shaft of your arrow, and let ‘er rip!”   
There was a ZING and a grasshopper fell, transfixed with an arrow through his heart. “How did you do that?” Horatio asked incredulously.  
“Practice. After a while, you can just do this!” He aimed the arrow at the sky and before you could blink there was another ZING and a dragonfly plummeted to the ground, wings twitching and legs waving wildly as it struggled in the moss next to the stream.  
“Oh, you didn’t kill it, did you?” cried the tenderhearted Horatio.  
“Nah, wasn’t shooting to kill. Just gave it a bit of a shock.” Theodore hopped over to the dragonfly and yanked his arrow from its knee. The insect stood up, flexed his knee, and flew off.  
“Can I try?” Horatio asked, eager to try his hand at such a fun sport.  
“Sure, go ahead. But aim carefully!”   
Horatio pulled back the string and tried to aim, but his wings wobbled and his feathers slipped and the arrow fell far short of the grasshopper he was aiming at. The stupid bug hopped lazily over to it and took it in his mouth. With a cry of, “Hey, cut it out!” Horatio bounded over to it. He was about to cut the grasshopper in two when it deposited the arrow at his feet.  
“I think it likes you!” Theodore snorted.  
“Go away, stupid bug!” Horatio kicked at it with his foot. It just looked expectantly up at him with its big green eyes. “Fine, go get that!” He snatched the arrow up and shot it with all his might. The grasshopper hopped off and came back with it in no time, capering around and kicking with his powerful feet before laying the arrow at Horatio's feet once more.  
“Why don’t you keep it?” Theodore suggested.  
“Well, it is kind of cute…” Horatio sighed, relenting slightly.  
Thus began a new pattern of life for Horatio and Theodore. Of course Horatio kept the grasshopper, and he taught it to do tricks and bring back the beetles and other things he shot. They continued to practice with bow and sword, and both became experts. Horatio improved his aim and mastered his big flat feet, becoming quite nimble, in fact. And Theodore, well, there was never a frog better at parrying thrusts in the entire world. Summer frosted through fall into winter, and winter eventually melted into spring. It was then that Horatio decided that it would be a good time to go questing. He voiced these thoughts to Theodore as they practiced archery one day.  
“I think you’re right,” Theodore agreed, “because we aren’t ridding the world of much evil from here on the farm!”   
“So, where should we go?”  
“Well, I have a feeling that if we just start on a journey, adventure will find us.” Theodore shot a fly, caught it expertly on his tongue, plucked the arrow out, and gulped it down.  
“Yes, I’ve had the same feeling. Go get it, boy!” The grasshopper, creatively named Grasshopper, hopped away and came back with a shriveled crabapple, which Horatio's arrow had pierced and knocked out of its tree.  
“Well, then what are we waiting for? We both have weapons, and we can hunt for food, so what else do we need? Let’s start today!”  
“All right! Just let me get my sword. Do you think we should take ’Hopper along?” Horatio asked, amazed at his friend’s logic.  
“I don’t think so. This could be dangerous. And after all, he’s a grasshopper. He can take care of himself.”  
So Horatio dashed off, grabbed his sword, now contained in a real sheath he had woven himself during the long winter months, plunked his helmet on top of his head, and prepared for the adventure of his life.  
They said goodbye to the other animals of the farm, who eyed them rather dubiously and muttered something about “Kids these days!” They told Grasshopper to take care of himself, and then the adventurous frog and duck set off down the road in the direction the knight and his steed had taken almost a year before. They chatted about all the adventures they could have, slaying an evil ruler, (Horatio's idea), or rescuing a lovely maiden and having her turn into a frog when she kisses you, (Theodore’s). In this cheerful fashion, they covered many miles, stopping to take drinks from the many sparkling bubbling brooks that ran past their path.  
But , while they were enjoying themselves, someone was not. Grasshopper sat beside the stream, absentmindedly chewing a blade of grass. He glanced at the road in the direction his friends had gone. A breeze stirred up the air, and dust motes, golden in the spring sunshine, danced in the air. He drooped down his antennae, the grasshopper sign of unhappiness. The only people that he liked and that liked him, gone. Will they be okay? I should find them. But what if it’s dangerous? Thoughts spun in his head like disturbed butterflies as he crouched despondently in the grass in the peaceful sunlight. But his mind was anything but peaceful.  
After a while, Horatio and Theodore left the area of well-spaced trees and grass and entered a dense forest. Everything was illuminated only by the shafts of grey-green light that filtered through the thick canopy above. Shadows danced everywhere, some obviously the work of a merry breeze shifting the treetops high above, some that looked like the shadow of some dark, ominous THING.  
“I don’t like this place much.” Theodore shivered. “It gives me the creeps.”  
“M-m-me t-t-t-too,” stuttered Horatio, “and I s-s-sure hope we don’t have to spend the night in here.”  
A crack, like something big stepping on a dry twig, split the otherwise almost silent air.  
“WHAT WAS THAT?” Horatio yelled.  
“THAT!” screamed Theodore.  
“BOOOOO!” said someone else.  
“SHOW Y-Y-YOURSELF!” Horatio, acting as brave as he could with his rapidly knocking knees. (Do ducks have knees?) He drew his sword and pointed it toward the shadowy figure ahead of them. “OR TASTE MY STEEL!”  
“Mercy! I wasn’t going to hurt you, anyway.” The big, shadowy whatever-it-was stepped into one of the shafts of light that made its way down to the forest floor. It was a deer!  
“A deer?” asked Theodore incredulously.  
“A deer?” Horatio giggled.  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a deer. So sue me! I didn’t really mean to scare you so much. I just don’t get very many visitors in my neck of the woods.”  
“Oh, that’s all right,” Horatio grinned in pure relief, “and boy, am I glad you’re just a de-”  
“A HUMAN” yelped Theodore.  
“A wha-” WHIZ THWACK!  
A human’s head had poked up from the bushes about a dozen yards away. He was aiming a bow with a sharp, dangerous looking arrow right at the deer. The WHIZ was the sound of an arrow speeding from Theodore's bow, and the THWACK was the sound of the arrow burying itself into the man’s nose. Immediately after the thwack came another ZING and a loud yell. The man released his bow to clap a hand to his nose. His aim was thrown off and the arrow flew wide, sinking deep into the heart of an oak. The man continued yelling as he crashed off through the underbrush, due to the fact that every few seconds another arrow from Theodore's bow thwacked painfully into his back.   
“Thank you! You saved my life!” the deer said, nearly weeping. “I thought I was done for!”  
“All in our line of work. It was nothing, really.” Theodore said modestly. “We’re knights, or almost knights, you see.”   
“Actually, you saved that guy’s hide as well as mine. I’m one of the king’s deer, see, and if he had shot me, he could have been made an outlaw.”  
“A king’s deer, eh? That must give you lots of protection.” Horatio said, slightly awed.  
“Not really,” the deer admitted, “since no one really pays much attention.”  
Theodore made polite conversation. “So, how's life around here? Anything interesting going on?”  
“Not really. I wish there was, though.”  
“Got any family around here?”  
“Nope. They just seemed to disappear over the years.”  
“So, life’s pretty boring?”  
“Yep.”  
Horatio felt inspiration leap into his head like a salmon hopping Niagara Falls. “Why don’t you come with us?”  
“Huh?” asked Theodore and the deer together.  
Horatio was on a roll. “Why didn’t I think of this before? You have nothing to do here, and you’re big and strong, and those antlers of yours look like good weapons. Hey, what’s your name? Mine’s Horatio, by the way, and this is Theodore.”  
“Well, my mom named me Osmond, but I don’t like that very much, so I call myself O. O Deer.” Osmond said.  
“Oh. O. Oh, I see! That’s a good name. So, would you like to come with us?” Horatio pressed the matter.  
“You know, I think I will. Actually, what are you doing?”  
“We go to have adventures, help those in need, and rid the world of evil.”  
The nearly-magical phrase sunk into O’s head. He, like Horatio and Theodore, knew that this was the life for him. “Right, when do we start?”  
“Now.”   
Well, deer can’t wield swords or bows and arrows, but they can kick as powerfully as any horse, and those antlers up top are quite dangerous if used right.  
“You see,” explained Horatio, “now we have someone to protect at long range with bow and arrow, Theodore, and two to fight up close and cover each other’s backs.”  
“Yes, as a group we are complete. Hey, Theodore, you look pretty tired. Why don’t you hop up here on my back?” O suggested, looking back at Theodore, who was lagging.   
“Sure!” Theodore replied gratefully. Osmond bent his head down close to the ground and Theodore leaped up on it.  
“All hail Sir Theodore and his trusty steed, O Deer!” grinned Horatio, if a duck can grin without lips.  
“Oh, hush!” O and Theodore said, trying to suppress their smiles.  
They walked in silence for a long time. The forest showed no sign of ending, and the shafts of light got fewer and farther between. “I think it’s about time to bed down for the night.” Horatio observed as the last glow of light faded. “But I don’t have any experience sleeping in the woods.”  
“I have!” Osmond reminded him, adding, “And I can show you how.”  
He allowed Theodore to hop off and trotted under a spreading pine. He collected a good-sized pile of last autumn’s leaves from beneath the surrounding trees. He fluffed them up and dove right into the middle of them with a resounding CRUNCH. The deer buried himself up to his neck and gave a contented yawn. “Get over here, you guys. It’s bedtime!”  
“Umm, that’s nice…” said Horatio, not sure how much he would enjoy sleeping in a pile of leaves. He snuggled in next to his friend, however, and was immediately surprised at how warm and cozy it was. Before he could even say, “Good knight,” he was asleep.  
Back at the farm, Grasshopper was also preparing for bed. His thoughts were still whirling in circles, but they were starting to fall into place. He had to go with Horatio. He had to! With his mind finally made up, he drifted off to sleep. In the morning, he would start to follow.   
Morning dawned in the forest. A bird tweeted once or twice, as if tuning up, and then burst forth into song. Several other birds joined him, and soon a chorus of chirping filled the air. The sun peeked sleepily over the horizon. It shot pinkish fingers of light across the sky. The fingers got brighter and brighter, and then the brilliant orb of yellow, life-giving light surged up into the sky. A breeze sprang up, stirring the treetops and making every green leaf dance. Obviously, the sun was putting forth an extra effort today, for the whole forest was illuminated and bright. At last, our friends woke.  
Horatio yawned and sniffed the cedar-y and wildflower-tainted air. “The woods are such a different place in the morning!” he commented.  
“Isn’t it lovely!” agreed Theodore. “But I’m hungry.”  
“Food may be closer than you think,” O said, stretching. “I think I hear a stream up ahead.”  
After listening for a moment, Horatio agreed that he had heard it, too. They got up from their bed of leaves and started walking. Sure enough, before long they caught a glimpse of clear, sparkling water. They ran up.  
“Oh, I’ve never tasted such good water in my life!” exclaimed O happily.  
“And it’s absolutely jam-packed with minnows!” called Horatio, poking his head up from where he had been diving in search of food. Theodore’s mouth was already too full of dragonflies to answer.  
After eating a hearty breakfast of berries and grass, O announced that it was probably time to be getting going. Theodore got up onto his head, and they all set off down the trail. Before the sun had reached its peak, they were out of the woods and moving through a flower-filled meadow. All was well, but Horatio could not help feeling slightly disappointed when he realized that they hadn’t found a quest yet.  
Adventure would come soon, sooner than any of them could have guessed. But in that sweet-smelling, birdsong-filled place, it seemed that nothing could possibly be wrong, that there could not be any evil in the world. So they strode happily along, oblivious to the fact that darkness and danger lurked ahead.  
The trio of adventurers came to the edge of the meadow in a couple of hours. In the distance, they saw a town. Not, however, the happy, bustling little town full of friendly, cheerful people one would expect to find in such a lovely environment. Instead, it was the burnt, blackened remains of a once-beautiful little town. Twisted skeletons of houses and buildings rose bleakly into the sky. The pungent smell of smoke stung Horatio's nostrils and made his eyes water.  
“What happened here?” said Theodore.  
“I don’t know, but it happened fairly recently. Look!” Horatio pointed at the smoking remains of an old church. As the breeze stirred the ash around, the embers at the base glowed brightly and threatened to begin burning anew.  
“That smell…What is it? “ O sniffed the air, looking puzzled.  
“Smoke, perhaps?”  
“No. Like a really big SOMETHING. A lizard, maybe,” O pondered. “But why is it so strong…”  
“I can help you with that.” A strange voice cut into their conversation. The thing that had spoken, a small brown dog, trotted out from inside the wreckage of a cottage. “My name’s Stephie. A week ago, right after nightfall, a huge lizard with wings flew by the town. Just the sight of the awful beast sent the town into commotion. People ran through the streets, screaming, ‘Dragon! We’ll all die!’ and similar nonsense, totally freaking out. It headed north, towards the hills. We saw nothing of it the next day, or even the day after that. But we heard plenty about it. Rumors came floating in about a strange creature setting farms ablaze, eating whole flocks of sheep, and causing desolation across the countryside.  
“Apparently the ‘dragon’ (that’s what my master called it) had been ruling the countryside in a fiery reign of terror. The men of the village decided to do something about it. For two days, our town was a hive of activity. My master put a new edge on his sword and prepared to go and slay the beast. On the evening of the second day, they left. They never came back.”  
“Two days after that, last night, the beast, the horrible dragon, came back. He roared his way over the town, scorching everything with his fiery breath. Everyone who was here, who hadn’t left with the men, ran away. My mistress left me. I was so scared and confused, and now my babies are there in the house, and all my friends that got left behind, and I don’t know what to do!” Stephie finished her sad tale and started sobbing.  
“There, there,” comforted Horatio, “we’re knights, and we’ve come to slay the dragon and help you and your family and friends. A couple of hours south of here is a lovely meadow. There’s a stream running through it, and plenty of food. Go there and wait until it’s safe to take your family back here. We’ll get you after we kill the dragon.”  
The dog began weeping again, this time from happiness. “Oh, thank you, thank you. We’ll go at once. Good luck!”  
“Thank you, ma’am. Goodbye!”  
And with that, Horatio and his friends walked off. The dog waved after them for a while, then went back into the house and collected her family. They and their friends went off in the direction of the meadow, filled with hope. They knew everything was going to be all right.  
Our trio of adventurers walked along in silence. Everywhere they saw the desolation caused by the wicked dragon. Scorched, twisted trees rose from blackened fields. Half-eaten, burnt carcasses of oxen and sheep littered pastures with ruined walls. And the smell which O had smelled got stronger and stronger every minute. They were no longer marching through pastureland, they were hiking up hills with prickly, dry grass that stabbed Theodore’s feet when he wasn’t riding, and sharp pebbles that got stuck in O’s hoofs and had to be pried out with Horatio's bill. As twilight fell, it became colder and colder. Poor Theodore, being coldblooded, began to shiver uncontrollably. It became evident that they would have to stop for the night and warm up. But how? They sat down and started to discuss the problem.  
“Well,” said Horatio, “if we slept close together, we would stay a bit warmer.”  
“B-b-but n-n-not en-n-nough!” shivered Theodore.  
“We could get the dragon to light our fire for us,” suggested O.  
“And r-r-risk being r-r-roasted? No thanks!” Theodore said firmly.  
An idea began to formulate in Horatio's mind. “Well, we can’t get the dragon’s fire. I know that, but we could make some of our own. I heard somewhere that if you hit metal and rocks together, you can make sparks. Let’s clear some grass away so we don’t set the hills ablaze. Then we can get some wood and pile it in the cleared place. We get a handful of dry grass, get the sparks on it, catch it on fire, drop it in the wood and WHAM we can all get warm and toasty!”  
“It’s a feasible idea,” speculated O, “but wouldn’t the dragon see the flames and want to check it out?”  
“It’s a risk we’d have to take,” Horatio agreed, “but not too large of one. He’d probably think it was just the remnants of a fire he started himself.”  
“I guess you’re right,” O relented slightly, “and I am awfully cold.”  
They cleared a good-sized fire ring. There was a dead tree nearby, miraculously unscorched, so O broke some branches off. Horatio pulled up several bills-full of grass. Theodore whacked a rock against the flat of Horatio's sword, sending a shower of sparks onto the grass and setting it ablaze. They carefully dropped it into the middle of the wood, and in no time a merry, crackling fire was going. The now warmed-up adventurers lay down, ignoring the sharp stones, and drifted off into blissful sleep.  
The next morning, Horatio awoke before everyone else. He pulled some more wood onto the fire, which was running low. A rumbling sound pierced the air. It was his empty stomach! He went looking for some food. “Oh, why didn’t I bring some food from the stream?” he moaned. Then, miracle of miracles, he spotted a blueberry bush. It was laden with fruit, and Horatio immediately began chowing down. “Mmmmmf good!” he mumbled to himself as the succulent berries burst in his now blue-stained bill. His friends soon awoke and joined him, eating heartily and renewing their strength.  
After they had finished, they tossed some dirt on the fire and put it out. With a cheerful cry of “Onward!” our friends set off. They marched happily along, heading toward the hills. After several hours, they were in the middle of them. Those hills had looked gentle and rolling in the distance, but now that they were up in the middle of them they were steep and craggy, and crisscrossed with jagged cliffs and deep ravines. The sharp stones and prickly grass had thinned out and were replaced by slippery shale flakes and occasional patches of thistle-filled grass. They had to watch their step carefully. One misstep and… Osmond put his hoof down and slipped on a big, flat, and unfortunately unsteady rock. It started tumbling down the side of the slope, and O started sliding after. He careened toward the ravine that cleft the ground a mere fifty yards below. Horatio and Theodore leaped after him, scared half to death but unable to do anything. A prickle bush stopped his downward descent, and he climbed from the middle, stunned, scratched and bruised but otherwise okay.  
“That was close!” he stated shakily.  
“Too close!” agreed Horatio. “We’ll have to be more careful from now on.”  
They had no time for conversing as they picked their way across the treacherous slopes. Each step was planned and concentrated upon. There were no other mishaps, but O was quite nervous and shaky after his near-death experience.   
“Hey! Look up there!” Theodore called. “A cave!”  
“Maybe the dragon lives there!” said O.  
“Yes,” said the practical Horatio, “but how are we going to get up there?”  
“Well,” O replied, “I see that we can’t go up from down here, but if we went up the back, I think I see a way to get down from the top.”  
“Then let’s go for it! Lead the way, O!” Horatio shouted.  
They went around the cliff to the back, a steep hill, carefully picking their way around the boulders that seemed to have been plunked down at random. The lizard-y smell became so strong that O’s eyes began to water a bit, and every few minutes he’d sneeze. They were so close, so close… But they were soon confronted with another difficulty. The ground seemed to open up before them; a deep, yawning gorge appeared before them. The cliff had not been backed by a solid hill, but instead had been a narrow butte.   
“End of the line, folks. I don’t see any way to get around this.” Horatio sighed and plopped down, looking dejected.  
“Horatio, you can’t give up!” Theodore half yelled.  
“Yeah!” O said. “I think I do see a way around. Look! See that old bridge? It looks dangerous, but if we’re careful, we can get over it.”  
Horatio peered off to the left. A narrow stone bridge, perhaps built by someone who wanted to use the cave as a hiding place or a home, spanned the ravine. “It does look dangerous, but let’s try it.”  
They edged carefully onto the bridge. Horatio was in the lead, then Theodore, then Osmond. It was perilous going, and several stones were missing, leaving gaps that would have to be leaped over or avoided. But, difficult as it was, they all eventually made it. They set about finding a way down to the cave.  
Horatio, having wings, was able to flap around and find a way down to the cave. Now, a duck’s wings aren’t very strong, so he had to land on the crags and boulders on the cliff’s face every few minutes. He had a narrow escape when the rock on which he had perched gave way. He started to fall for a second, and then, by frantically flapping his wings, he managed to get up to a rock outcropping where he remained until he got his breath back. It was a harrowing, hair-raising, perilous climb for Theodore and Osmond, less so for Theodore, being hairless.  
Eventually they all stood on the narrow ledge outside the dragon’s lair. O stuck his head inside the hole. His nostrils were so horribly assailed by the sulfurous, dragonish fumes that he had a violent sneezing fit.  
“I’m not going in!” he said stubbornly. “The buck stops here!”  
“But O!” protested Horatio.  
“Ummm…. Maybe I should stay here with him,” Theodore began nervously.  
“But, guys… For crying out loud, after all we’ve been through together!” Horatio half yelled. The pair of chickens cast their eyes downward and said nothing. “Oh, fine! You two just stay here. I’ll get this thing myself.”  
“No, Horatio,” Theodore protested. “It’s too dangerous!”  
“I’ve got to,” Horatio replied softly, “because I couldn’t live with myself if I backed down now.” With that, he waddled inside, and was swallowed in darkness.  
Meanwhile, Grasshopper was passing through the grasslands between the town and the hills. He had traveled all night, stopping only to take nibbles of grass and sips of water from the morning dew on the grass. Exhausted as he was, he still went full speed ahead. Something inside told him that all was not right.  
Horatio walked along the pitch-black tunnel, afraid of what lay ahead, but too stubborn to go back. He detected movement in the darkness ahead and stopped. Next to him was a narrow hole, and he dove inside. Turns out, it wasn’t a hole, it was a tunnel! He went along it to see where it would lead. It was a tight squeeze, but he made it. He poked his head out of the end and gasped.  
He was in a large cavern. A fire on the far side lighted it dimly. Underneath him was a pile of scorched wood, the remains of a bonfire. The tunnel he had been crawling through usually served as a chimney or air-duct, but for whatever reason it was not in use that day. Piled in heaps on the floor were gold, diamonds, rubies, suits of armor, weapons, any sort of treasure you could think of. Perched on the largest heap, peering intently into the tunnel where Horatio had been, the one that served as an entrance from the cliff, was the dragon!   
It was huge, as long as thirty ducks the size of Horatio end to end, with a long tail that added another twenty, and as tall as three deer on top of each other. A large neck was topped off with a grotesque head. He had at least a forty-foot wingspan, horrible, bat like wings. He was dark green in color, with scaly skin and a smooth, armor-plated, cream-colored underside. His broad back was ridged down the middle with spines. He had four legs, the front more like arms with talons like an eagle’s, and the back with huge sharp claws. The head at the end of the thick neck was indeed ferocious, with deep-set, burning red, catlike eyes, a thin, branching line of purple on the cheeks, and twisting black horns on top.  
Poor Horatio felt very small and weak by comparison. Nevertheless, he climbed from the tunnel and immediately slid on a string of pearls. He just barely kept from tripping and looked to see if he had caught the attention of the dragon. He forgot to look where he was going and put his foot into a silver, ruby-encrusted goblet. WHAM! He fell down with a clatter and skidded on a golden platter right up to the pile where the dragon was perched.  
The dragon whipped around and stared at him. He spoke in a rasping hiss. “WHO GOES THERE?” he said with a spurt of flame.  
“Sir Horatio, the knight! Prepare to die, foul beast!” Horatio shouted, mustering his courage and drawing his sword.  
“And I am Darkwing, ruler of all dragons, and it shall be you that dies!”  
Outside, a dejected pair of danger-fearing friends sat. “Oh, poor Horatio. I wish I had gone with him, but now it’s too late,” O said.   
“He was so brave. And now he’s probably dead!” sobbed Theodore.  
“I guess we should leave.” Osmond suggested reluctantly.  
“I won’t leave him!” Theodore pulled himself together. “I’m going to help him!” And he leaped off.  
“I’m coming too!” O galloped after him.  
They found Horatio backed into a corner. The dragon, bleeding in several places from Horatio's ferocious onslaught, was preparing to finish him off and thus did not see O and Theodore enter. WHIZTHWACK! The familiar sound of an arrow whizzing from Theodore’s bow and sinking into someone’s nose was heard. Darkwing rent the air with a mighty roar, and Horatio only escaped incineration by diving behind a stack of silver cutlery. With no further ado, the re-u“knight”ed trio leapt into battle. Theodore kept the arrows coming, causing the dragon much pain. Osmond belabored the dragon’s other end with his antlers, and Horatio hacked and thrust at the dragon from the front. They were moving around so much that Darkwing was unable to use his fire, so he reared back and slashed at his attackers with his powerful front claws.   
I have heard it said, and rightfully so, that nothing fights like a cornered dragon. Darkwing proved this point beyond a shadow of a doubt. So mighty and frenzied was his counterattack, and so driven by his fury, that Horatio and his friends began losing ground, even with the weight of numbers on their side.  
It was then that Grasshopper arrived. He saw Osmond go down, rendered helpless by a bloody tear in his side caused by one of the dragon’s claws, and Theodore running out of arrows, and Horatio fighting gallantly away as the dragon raked madly away at the air before him. Can’t let him be hurt! Can’t let him go down! Without a thought of any sort of plan or a fear for his own safety, he charged into the fray.   
Leaping nimbly to avoid stomping feet, and taking care not to distract Horatio, Grasshopper took mighty bounds towards the dragon. Using Darkwing’s tail as a ramp, he made his way up to its head. A plan instantly making itself clear in his mind, he scrambled into the hole that serves as an ear for Darkwing and other dragons, and bit down hard. Once again, Darkwing roared in pain and fury, and once again, Horatio was only saved from being burnt to a crisp by dodging behind a pile of plunder. When fire stopped spewing from Darkwing’s mouth, the heroic duck charged forward and stuck the tip of his sword into the dragon’s exposed belly. Confused and in pain, the beast stumbled backwards and tripped over his own tail. In a flash, Horatio was on top of him, holding his sword-blade against Darkwing’s throat.  
“Make one move and you’re a dead beast!” he spat through his clenched bill. Grasshopper popped out of the dragon’s ear and hopped up next to him, waving his antennae proudly.  
“Mercy! Don’t kill me!” begged the dragon, twitching his tail and wings nervously.  
“What do you think? Should we save or slay the foul beast? Should the monster who would give no mercy receive mercy?”  
Grasshopper shook his head in mock seriousness.  
“Hey, how did you get here, anyway?” asked Horatio.   
Grasshopper pantomimed a duck waddling down a road, and then showed himself following.  
“Oh. Well, what about the rest of you?”  
Theodore looked up from the injured Osmond. “Let him live for now. We need to bind up O’s wound.”  
“You heard him!” Horatio glared fiercely into Darkwing’s eyes. “Help us bandage up our friend.” He hopped down, not taking his eyes off the dragon, lest he try anything.  
The dragon, now submissive, got up and produced a cream-colored cloak, which he tore into strips and wrapped around O’s middle. The wound was only a superficial one, so he was going to be fine.  
“I think we should let him live,” said Theodore, “but only if he promises to reform.”   
“I promise! I promise! I wasn’t trying to hurt those people! I just had to sneeze.”  
Yeah, right, thought Horatio. “We’ll let you live. Will you take us to find the villagers and everyone so we can tell them that it’s safe to come back?”  
“Sure, I’ll do anything.” First the dragon presented a gift to each of them: to Horatio, a lovely sword with a silver sheath and a handle with a sapphire set in the middle; to Theodore, an oaken bow with golden end tips and a tiny leather quiver of arrows; and to the now-happy Osmond, who said he felt just fine, a handsome pendant with a ruby set in gold to fasten around his neck. They then went to the mouth of the cave. Darkwing got down on his knees and helped them all climb onto his broad back. With a whoosh, they were off!  
The dragon’s powerful wings pumped effortlessly, keeping them all aloft. Theodore and O huddled together and closed their eyes, but Horatio kept his eyes open and perched on top of Darkwing’s head and looked out over the countryside. Before long he spotted a line of dark figures on the ground.  
“That’s them!” Horatio said into Darkwing’s ear. “Land and try not to look too scary.”  
“Hold on tight!” the dragon yelled. He went in to a steep dive and landed right in front of the villagers.  
The humans, who had been joined by the men of the village who had ran instead of doing battle at the sight of the beast, screamed and scattered, but Darkwing yelled for them to stop. They did, and turned around incredulously. Darkwing apologized profusely, promised to help them rebuild, and explained that the brave Horatio had made him see the error of his ways. The villagers, slightly dazed, forgave him. Next, they brought Stephie the dog back to the town. The process of rebuilding began.  
Several weeks later, the job was finished. As Darkwing, Horatio, and his friends helped, the news of the heroism spread throughout the country, eventually reaching the ears of the king himself! He came to see them, bringing none other than Malcolm the horse and Sir Melvin!  
“You did it, young one! Good job!” Malcolm congratulated. “And you know what? King George is planning on knighting you tomorrow. I’m proud of you.”  
Tears glistened in Horatio's eyes. He was so happy. He felt happier still as King George laid the flat of his sword on either side of his neck and said, “I dub thee, brave one, Sir Horatio!” His friends became knights that day as well, and they swore allegiance to God, king, and country. It was the most wonderful day of his life.  
Darkwing graciously volunteered to carry the newly-appointed knights back to the farm, and they accepted immediately. Instead of taking several days of traveling, it only took a few hours, and our trio of heroes sat back and enjoyed the view. Even Osmond and Theodore opened their eyes and gazed at the beautiful woodland and fields beneath them. Grasshopper perched beside Horatio and made little chirps of contentment.  
When the conquering heroes swooped into the farm on the back of a dragon, everyone ran and hid at first, and then, as they emerged from hiding, there was much cheering and merrymaking. A feast was given in their honor. Amidst the dancing and eating Horatio, Theodore, Osmond, and Grasshopper slipped away and sat on the bank of the stream running into the pond. Horatio scratched Grasshopper behind the antennae. “Well, here we are, home again!” he exclaimed. “I wonder what our next adventure will be?”  
“I don’t know, but we’ll go through it together!” Theodore said, drawing his weapon and inviting the others to do so. “All for one and one for all!”  
“Cliché!” commented Horatio.  
“You mean touché!” Osmond corrected.  
“No, I mean cliché.”  
Cliché or not, in that moment, they all knew that whatever happened, they would go through it together.  
The End


End file.
